It's Raining Men Part 3

'Yes,' said Clare, with relief, because tucked inside the card was a voucher for them to go to Rockley Hall, a beautiful restaurant not far from where they lived and which they frequented at least once a month.

'How's work?' asked Lionel Salter. He always asked that early in a conversation.

This is it, Clare, your s.h.i.+rley Valentine moment.

'Well . . .' Oh G.o.d, it was just too delicious to keep in her mouth any longer. She wanted to lead up to it slowly but her gob had other ideas. 'I've been made a partner.' In her head she raised two fingers to her supremely sn.o.bby cow of a sister and arrogant a.r.s.e of a brother. Sit on that and swivel, Alice Salter-Frampton, and you as well, Toby.

'A partner?' said her father, gruffly. As if she had just told him a joke that wasn't very funny.

'Yes, Dad, I've been made a partner.' Oh, those words felt like the best flavour in her mouth. Better even than her speciality peanut-b.u.t.ter cheesecake on an Oreo base.

There was a momentary silence then Lionel Salter relayed the information to his wife in a voice that didn't quite believe the words it was saying. 'Dorothy, Clare has been made a partner.'

There was some twittering in the background, probably her mother fainting and her dad banging his hearing aid against the wall in fear that it was broken.

'Dad, Dad, are you still there?'

'Yes, I'm still here.' Her dad actually sounded as if he were smiling now. 'That's very well done, Clare. Very well done. We're delighted. I suppose your chap must be thrilled too?'

Clare raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her father rarely referred to Ludwig. Ironic, then, that he did so now when Lud would be going to Dubai in two days to possibly start the ball rolling on a new life without her.

'Yes, he's thrilled.' It wasn't a lie. Ludwig was thrilled for her. The chance of a lifetime that she couldn't possibly pa.s.s up.

Ludwig ticked all the boxes on her parents' list of essential qualities for prospective partners: successful, grand job t.i.tle, drove a top-of-the-range Audi. It was just a shame he 'wasn't British', as her dad put it. Clare opened her mouth to tell her dad that they weren't together any more and then shut it again. Today was not the day for any news that would take away the s.h.i.+ne.

'Wonderful news.' She could hear the elation in her father's voice and it made her spirits soar so high they needed oxygen to breathe. 'We'll tell Toby and Alice straightaway.'

As Clare put the phone down after the conversation her eyes flooded with happy tears. Despite the fact that a hard weekend of working in the office loomed, she was ecstatic. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard her father say he was going to brag about her to her siblings, instead of the other way round. Then she realized she couldn't remember, because he never had before.

Chapter 9.

Lara had a rotten weekend. James was in the office all day Sat.u.r.day and 'popped in' on Sunday too, for an hour that turned out to be four. At least Keely was out shopping with her one and only friend Paris for most of Sat.u.r.day and stayed over at hers that night. Garth was on his Xbox playing some game that involved a lot of shooting and shouting to his friends down his headphone mike. Lara felt more lonely rattling around in the house than she ever had when she was living alone in her cosy Islington flat.

She also had too much time to think. What Keely said about Tianne played over and over again in her head. She knew she was being stupid and immature. Tianne was an ex for a reason and James was with Lara now. He couldn't change the past any more than she could change the mistakes she had made with men. And, boy, had she picked some beauties. James had been honest with her and admitted to sleeping with Tianne behind Rachel's back. What more did she want? Mrs de Winter was dead and gone, long live Mrs De Winter. Then came the counter argument: he'd kept it quiet about doing the dirty behind Rachel's back until last night. She remembered him telling her in the past that he had never been unfaithful to anyone. However badly his relations.h.i.+p was going with Rachel, bonking Tianne behind her back was cheating full stop.

James was too tired for s.e.x on Sat.u.r.day night, and it was never even mentioned on Sunday. He kissed her, wished her goodnight and then turned over. He was snoring within minutes. They'd had s.e.x every time he visited her old flat; he'd been mad for her, even when he'd come over from working very late. He was going off her. That was the obvious conclusion.

Eventually Lara dropped off and the dream world continued to torture her. Tianne appeared as a tiny-waisted naked being with gravity-defying t.i.ts and an a.r.s.e like two perfectly shaped apples. Sitting astride James, Tianne turned around to her without breaking her rhythm, her long curly hair bouncing. Lara didn't sleep very well and awoke feeling drained and on edge. She got up and made a jug of coffee with the old-fas.h.i.+oned percolator she had brought with her. She loved its bad-tempered hissing and spitting and the homely aromas it produced that filled the kitchen. Even though it was a dark Monday morning, she perked up at the prospect of sharing breakfast alone with James. She longed for more of these wonderful early mornings with James and Colombian Roast and the comfortable quiet.

Miriam had rung the previous night to say that she was picking up the children on Tuesday afternoon and taking them over to France for a week. Miriam didn't ask, she dictated. It was no wonder the children had been brought up to think the world revolved around their family. But wonderful timing it wasn't, as Lara would have had a whole week alone with James if she wasn't going on holiday with her friends. She watched him sipping from his World's Greatest Dad mug and looking through his emails on his iPhone and her heart leapt in her chest as if it were trying to break out of her body and pounce on him. She wished this holiday were at any other time, because right now she needed to stay here with him and recover what they had when they first met.

James had a really powerful aura surrounding him, as men in high positions usually did, even the ones who had major belly paunches and jowls. But James was blessed by being sickeningly handsome with it. In fact, it was as if he had been created according to her own personal checklist: angel-fair hair, baby-blue eyes, soft kissable lips, strong jaw always showing just the right amount of designer stubble. Tall, but not too tall that she looked like a midget at the side of him when they walked anywhere together, because she was only five foot two. And he dressed exquisitely. His s.h.i.+rts were expensive, his suits handmade, his shoes shone. Sometimes she didn't know what such a successful, handsome man as James Galsworthy saw in her. She wasn't his usual type. She had sneaked a few looks on Facebook at his exes and they were very much from the same mould with their curtains of dark hair, dark soulful eyes, oval faces and long legs, whereas Lara kept her blonde hair short and she was much curvier than his past girlfriends. She might not have their attributes, but she had some special ones of her own: her eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel, fringed with long thick black lashes; she also had a magnificent chest and James was definitely a b.o.o.b man. She puffed up after reminding herself that she had at least that advantage over his exes.

'I'm going to be really late home tonight,' James announced as he carried on checking his messages. Lara's heart sank. This was their last evening together before her holiday and she'd planned a romantic dinner. Plus, Keely was having Paris over to stay the night so there would be not one but two teenaged females making evil eyes at her.

'Oh,' she said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. 'Can't you get out of it? Keely and Garth go away to France tomorrow and it's our last-'

'I only wish I could, darling,' he interrupted her. 'It's going to be a very late, very boring meeting with bankers, who will probably drone on for hours because they love the sound of their own voices. Sorry.'

'Oh, well, can't be helped,' said Lara. Unfortunately men working in lofty positions, men such as James, had to put in long unsociable hours. She thought about staying behind at the office herself but she remembered that she had promised Kristina an extra night off to go to the West End with her new boyfriend and someone needed to be at home with Keely and Garth, however uncomfortable they made her feel.

James picked up his briefcase and leaned over her. She raised her lips to his but he kissed her on the forehead and she felt a little sting of rejection. They had been together for only six months and he was kissing her on the forehead. She felt as drained as if she had been living with him for years, having birthed and brought up his children.

'Don't wait up,' said James.

'Surely you're not going to be that late, are you?' gasped Lara with some horror.

'I hope not, but you never know,' replied James with a loaded sigh. 'See you later, darling. I'll grab something at Waterloo so don't bother to make any dinner for me.'

And with that he was off, with his rubbish kiss and his 'Don't wait up'. Did he really have a meeting with boring bankers? That was her first thought as the door closed.

Oh G.o.d, Lara, a voice strangled with impatience said inside her head. Stop with this paranoia. You're being ridiculous. James is living with YOU. He didn't live with Chloe, he didn't live with Rachel, he most certainly didn't live with Tianne but he HAS chosen to live with you. Get over yourself.

Oi, you, said a countering rough Yorks.h.i.+re voice. You can't blame her for being a bit of a fruit loop. Not after the luck she's had with blokes. Give her a break.

Fair point, said the first voice. But let's try to keep things in perspective, shall we? We don't want to encourage any self-fulfilling prophecies now, do we?

Lara heard Keely's door creak open upstairs. Time to go to work, she decided, before she came face to face with the world's biggest spoon and heard even more words to torture herself with.

Her mood was glum as she caught the train to work. Her department was having a refit so she and her team were temporarily crammed into the grotty windowless bas.e.m.e.nt of the ma.s.sive Cole and Craw Financial Inst.i.tute building which was chilly and had rubbish overhead lighting. This just added to the increasing hatred she felt for the job she had once loved. She should never have taken the lucrative promotion that had been dangled in front of her face. Without the promotion she would have stayed happy in her old position and wouldn't have had to work directly for Giles Billingley, the three-chinned chauvinistic pig who thought women should be paid less, fetch the tea and not object when he stroked their bottom. It was going to be good to be away from the dirty old b.a.s.t.a.r.d creep for a fortnight. She couldn't even find some respite at work from her less-than-perfect home life because, as atmospheres go, they were each as bad as the other. A weekend at home being continually on edge wore her down as much as two days in the office. Recently Kristina had been in a worse mood than usual, complaining about how many dried bogeys she'd had to remove from underneath any surface in the house to which they would adhere. Not forgetting the walls, where the charming Garth would flick them.

The black cloud above Lara's head followed her into the lift and down to her make-do office and stayed stubbornly with her as she sat at her desk and logged onto her computer. She'd had such high hopes for this relations.h.i.+p and yet she saw James less now they were living together than when they had separate houses. Something was happening to them. Or was it someone?

Against her own better judgement, Lara logged onto her Facebook account. She had set it up years ago when a friend had emigrated, as a way of keeping in touch, but they never really had so it had lain dormant, until she logged on to look up Tianne after having that name shoved down her throat by Keely on a regular basis. Tianne's timeline was full of exciting singles' events worthy of a chick-lit book: theatre trips, festivals, holidays in hot climes, c.o.c.ktails in a variety of European venues. In every one of her photos, Tianne was posed smiling at the camera with her white teeth, wild dark curls and a practised pout of a mouth. It was very evident that no one could ever find Tianne Lee as wonderful as she found herself.

Tianne was a newly fledged solicitor working for a very prestigious firm in the City. She was, it seemed, the woman with everything: flashy job, flashy car, flashy wage everything except a boyfriend. Her status was still showing her as single. There had been quite a few entries since the last time Lara had spied on her, and some more photos added. Again that Simon Cowell-type, white-toothed smiling pose against backdrops of the Eiffel Tower, the Moulin Rouge, a casino in Las Vegas and even some of her standing outside the Old Bailey in a pinstriped suit.

Thanks for all my birthday cards and messages.

That was the last entry on the timeline yesterday. Small lettering said there were comments about that post, and Lara scrolled down to read the conversation between a friend called Aleisha and Tianne.

Did you do anything nice for your birthday at the weekend, darling?

That would be telling.

Tell me then.

Met a friend for dinner and c.o.c.ktails ;).

c.o.c.ktails or c.o.c.ktails?

Both. More when I see you.

Lara forced herself to log out and stop her lurid imaginings. Two working days to go until her holiday. Maybe a good blast of sea air would blow all those ridiculous, head-rotting pictures of Tianne out to sea where they could get eaten by a pa.s.sing shark.

Chapter 10.

May's lovely dream was pierced by the sound of her alarm clock. She and Michael had been alone on a deserted beach. They were cuddled up on a double sunbed, the sun warm on her back, the only sound the swis.h.i.+ng of waves ebbing and flowing. Suddenly it was five twenty in the morning and Michael's heavy arm draped over her made it doubly hard to get up. She pressed the snooze b.u.t.ton, then snuggled close to him for five more delicious minutes. Michael started to stroke the small of her back, then his hand dipped to her b.u.t.tocks. She knew he wanted to make love. He was always ready for s.e.x in the mornings. His appet.i.te must have been enormous when he was much younger and newly married to Susan, May suddenly mused. That thought of him in bed with Susan brought a big wave of jealousy splas.h.i.+ng over her even though she knew she had a cheek, seeing as that woman was still his wife.

Grudgingly she lifted his arm and slid from underneath it just as the alarm went off again.

'Michael,' she said as she kissed him. 'Michael, I can't. I've got an early meeting.'

'Spoilsport.'

May chuckled. 'I know.'

'Morning, darling,' he said. 'Wow.'

May was standing there naked, looking for her underwear in the drawer.

'Come back to bed and let's make love.'

Thousands of fizzy beads of excitement bubbled inside May at the thought of that. If she weren't so conscientious she might have been tempted to take a day off sick, for the first time ever. Monday morning had never felt more like a Monday morning. Having s.e.x with the man she loved was a much more exciting prospect than having a meeting in Clapham and then doing a presentation to a boss who would be h.e.l.l-bent on finding holes in her plans because he was the envious, talentless little s.h.i.+t of a nephew of the MD.

'I know, I know,' said Michael. 'A nice idea, but we have work to do.'

'Where do you have to go today?'

'Derby,' said Michael.

'Derby? Again? You were there on Sat.u.r.day and most of yesterday, weren't you?'

'Big client needs lots of attention, darling.'

'Do these people not realize that you might have a life at weekends?' May huffed angrily on his behalf. 'Who wants to talk paper on a Sunday?'

'You'd be surprised how many workaholics like to do exactly that. Thank goodness it's just the one customer, then I can come home and . . .' His voice tailed off sadly.

May slipped her knickers on quickly then rushed to put her arms around Michael. It was Susan's birthday today. He would take her flowers and sit by her side and talk to her about what they should have been doing: having a meal in a nice restaurant, watching a show, staying in a plush hotel afterwards. May wished she had never agreed to go on holiday with her friends. Michael needed her far more than they did. She should be with him. But when push came to shove, she just couldn't bring herself to let them down.

Michael's hands moved to fondle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. 'Oh, May, you are lovely,' he said. 'I'm so glad I found you. I'm so happy you're in my life. I think I'd have topped myself if I didn't have you.'

May kissed his head and wished she could tumble back into bed with this s.e.xy, tortured man. Michael started stroking her nipple and she had to pull away, even though she really didn't want to. She was already going to be hot and bothered on the Tube thinking about what might have ensued had she given in.

His smile said he knew exactly what effect he was having on her.

'I love you so much,' she said.

'I know you do,' he said. 'I'm a very lucky man.'

Chapter 11.

Clare closed the box of cleaning materials that sat beside her suitcase. She had two full days left to work, then she had ten wonderful days at the spa, and after that she would hit the ground running with her new job. Longer hours as if she could do many more; greater responsibility as if she hadn't enough already. But it would all be worth it for that note she had heard in her parents' voices on Sat.u.r.day morning. She had replayed that conversation back to herself so many times over the weekend. It had made up her mind for her. She knew what she had to do and she would be doing it in her lunch hour today. She was meeting Ludwig in Covent Garden at twelve. He would be flying to Dubai that evening.

As she was thinking this, a tinkle on her phone heralded a text from him.

Can't wait to see you for lunch x.x.x Oh G.o.d, that wasn't helping. He didn't know what he was in for. She wished it were one o'clock now and she was back in the office with the lunch behind her.

The morning at work dragged, as she knew it would. The clock hands crawled around to lunchtime. Ludwig was waiting for her in the restaurant with two gla.s.ses of champagne already ordered and on the table. He stood up and kissed her, not noticing that she turned her head slightly so his mouth landed more on her cheek than on her lips. He handed her a gla.s.s of champagne, lifted his own and c.h.i.n.ked it against hers.

'I've got some pictures of the apartment,' said Lud, digging in his jacket pocket. He straightened out the sheets of paper and handed them over to Clare. 'I thought they might tempt you, even though I promised myself that I wouldn't pressurize you,' and he winked.

'Wow,' she said, meaning it. s.p.a.cious and cream-coloured, big bouncy sofas and an open-plan arrangement with, since it was a corner apartment, two full walls of windows letting in the light. There was a view of the sun-sparkled Dubai sea in the near distance. The sight of those blue waters nearly had her throwing away her life as she knew it and promising to go with Lud. Clare loved the sea; she loved the smell of it, the feel of the cold salty water against her skin, the sensation of slipping underneath it and disappearing into another world. Dubai and that sea could be her home for two years. Everything she loved s.p.a.ce, sun, sea . . . Was she mad turning it down?

'That's the apartment right there to the le-'

Then Lud's phone rang again and his attention s.h.i.+fted away from her.

Oh Lud, it looks gorgeous, it really does and half of me wants to go with you so badly, but the other half knows I can't. I can't miss this opportunity to be the angel at the top of the family tree for once. I can't be second best any more. To you or anyone.

'I shall be back home on the day you return from the holiday with your friends,' he said. 'Let's toast that the time until then will fly.' He drank, she didn't. Clare replaced her gla.s.s on the table.

'Lud, I think we should split up.'

His lips paused on the gla.s.s.

'We can't have a long-distance relations.h.i.+p; we'd just be delaying the inevitable. We wouldn't survive it.'

'Other people manage,' said Ludwig, putting his gla.s.s down. He looked calm, but she had totally knocked him off balance, she knew.

'I've been thinking . . . your change of job happening at the same time as my promotion is fate, Lud,' said Clare, pus.h.i.+ng down on those feelings of protest which were trying to rise within her. 'You need someone who will support you and give you a family, someone to work for and look after. I'm not that woman.'

'Are you sure, Clare? Can you put your hand on your heart and say that you are taking this position because you want it?' His words were gentle, almost a whisper, and yet they plunged into her chest and straight through the centre of her heart.

'Yes,' she said. 'I can say that. I am sure.'

'We can make this work, Liebling.'

Clare took a deep breath.